Chocolate Kisses
by Emery Saks
Summary: Harold and Winthrop sneak a piece of fudge from the kitchen, confident they will not be caught. But when Marian applies unorthodox methods to investigate, Harold discovers sneaking confections can lead to something far sweeter.


The autumn air was cool and carried a hint of spice from the pumpkin pies that sat on the window ledges of nearby homes. It was Saturday, and in the backyard of the Paroo home, playful shouts and cheerful laughter could be heard by those who happened to pass by.

Harold Hill and Winthrop Paroo lay on their backs in the middle of the leaf-strewn yard, holding their sides and chuckling gleefully at one another as the October leaves rained down upon them. The seemingly mismatched friends had spent the majority of the afternoon climbing up and down trees, running around the backyard and terrorizing the occasional chicken.

Winthrop had tried to recruit his mother and sister to join them, but the former had simply laughed and said she had errands to attend, while the latter smiled fondly and informed them that a lady didn't roll around on the ground. Harold, for his part, had to bite his lower lip to keep from replying that some ladies did, indeed, do just that and most found it quite exhilarating after having done so. Somehow, he didn't think Marian would be amused. He figured he'd let her in on the fact after they married, or better yet, simply demonstrate it one warm, summer afternoon and let her decide for herself.

With that delightfully decadent thought in mind, Harold merely beamed at his lovely piano teacher while Marian continued to inform Winthrop that she had a few things to do inside the house before she spent the remainder of her afternoon reading. Winthrop seemed disappointed, but once the women left them to their own devices, he perked up noticeably when Harold suggested they defend the fort from Spanish conquistadors. Picking up a nearby stick, Winthrop quickly found a spot to defend and the two were off, lost in their imaginary world.

Although the two of them had spent several hours outside engaged in all sorts of boyish mischief, both remained relatively clean; however, Harold knew Mrs. Paroo and Marian would expect them to be spotless before entering the house, and anticipating their line of questioning, Harold instructed Winthrop to wash up as he rolled back his own shirtsleeves to do the same.

The cool water from the pump brought goose bumps to their skin as they splashed it up and down their forearms, and Harold was suddenly quite grateful for the small fire he knew was burning inside the parlor. It would be a welcome comfort after several hours outside in the autumn air.

When he was satisfied they could both pass inspection, Harold rolled down his sleeves and buttoned his cuffs. Winthrop followed suit, but managed to finish his before his mentor could secure the last button. With an unrepentant grin, he yelled, "Race you!" and took off for the door. Harold laughed and pursued him, bounding up the stairs and opening the screen door that had slammed shut only seconds before.

As the two went barreling through the wooden door that led to the kitchen, Harold opened his mouth to congratulate Winthrop on his unorthodox win when the boy suddenly stopped in mid-stride. It was all the music professor could do to catch himself and not plow down the youngest Paroo. His gaze followed Winthrop's captivated stare until he spied the culprit that had curtailed their merry game of chase: a plate of fudge sat cooling on the edge of the kitchen counter.

Winthrop turned to Harold with plaintive eyes, his unspoken request clearly evident. Harold grinned and eyed the fudge thoughtfully.

"I don't know, Winthrop. Knowing your sister, she'll probably remember exactly how many pieces she cut."

Winthrop's shoulders slumped. "Sister does count them," he agreed forlornly.

Harold chuckled, and a mischievous glint twinkled in his eyes. Marian was meticulous in everything she did, and confections would be no exception. But he could remember being a little boy and smelling the enticing scent of freshly-baked fudge wafting through his home. That was before his family had taken to the road, changing his life forever, but he could _still_ remember that smell and sense of security that accompanied it. Surely Marian wouldn't begrudge him too much for allowing Winthrop a moment of boyhood indulgence. And if even she did, Harold was almost certain he could smooth things over. Come to think of it, he hoped Marian _did_ begrudge him and required some sweet talking before settling down. He hadn't kissed his librarian since two nights ago, and he found himself sorely missing her embrace. Winthrop's request for fudge might provide him the perfect opportunity for a little canoodling!

Glancing around to ensure they were alone, Harold turned back to Winthrop and gave him a conspiratorial smile and a wink. "I won't tell if you won't."

Winthrop's face lit up with enthusiasm when Harold handed him an unusually large piece of fudge before taking a smaller one for himself. Standing in the kitchen, the two chewed in contented silence while sporting huge grins. When Harold was satisfied no evidence remained of their crimes, he ushered Winthrop through the kitchen door, but stopped short when he spied Marian sound asleep in the chair closest to the kitchen, a book on her lap and her spectacles slightly crooked on her nose.

Harold was captivated. He'd never before witnessed his dear librarian asleep and the sight of it caused his body to instinctively tighten. She was lovely. He reached out to run his hand along her smooth neck, but caught himself, remembering that they were not alone. Turning to Winthrop, he placed a finger to his pursed lips and motioned for the young boy to remain quiet before continuing to through the parlor to the front hallway.

With a nod of his head, Harold nudged his youngest student toward the stairway and softly whispered, "Go ahead and get changed out of those clothes, son. Clean up while you're up there, too. When you come back down, we'll wake your sister and all go to the Candy Kitchen."

Winthrop's eyes lit up in excitement and hurriedly started up the stairs, but when Harold's strong hand lighted upon his shoulder, he turned around with questioning eyes.

"And make sure to run a comb through that hair," the professor said with a grin. "It looks like an army of rats made a nest in there!"

Winthrop bobbed in his head in agreement. "Sure thing, professor!"

Harold affectionately watched Winthrop bound up the stairs. The boy had finally come out of his shell, and he was glad for it. He'd long ago come to the realization that Marian's younger brother meant more to him than a mere student or even more than – Harold hoped – a future brother-in-law. He had come to view the mop-haired child as a son, and as such, felt a keen sense of pride as Winthrop had quickly found acceptance among the ranks of River City's youth. More often than not, Marian's little brother was nowhere to be found when Harold happened to stop by to see if the young boy wanted to join him for an afternoon walk to the Candy Kitchen. But that was as it should be, and the music professor never felt anything but happiness when Marian informed him of her brother's absence. Besides, Harold chuckled, those visits invariably ended with Marian joining him instead, although he usually ended up amending his destination to include the footbridge instead of the Candy Kitchen. He grinned. The sweets he indulged in with Marian were far tastier than any confection Ed Langford's establishment could offer.

Once again reminded of the loveliness sitting just in the other room, Harold cocked an ear, listening to ensure Winthrop was safely ensconced in his room. When he heard the sounds of shoes landing on the wooden floor, the music professor turned back to the parlor, confident the lad would be occupied for a while.

Marian was still fast asleep, the clatter upstairs evidently not loud enough to wake her. Harold knelt beside her and gently eased the book from her lap, glancing at the title as he did so. _Jane Eyre_. He regarded his librarian with a fond look. He should have known. The strong heroine and threads of romance weaved throughout the book would easily make it one of Marian's favorites. Harold made a note to ask her if she favored any of the other Bronte sisters' works. If so, he'd see about getting her copies for her personal library. After all, Christmas was fast approaching.

Making sure to mark her place, Harold gently laid Marian's book on the nearby end table and returned his gaze to her sleeping form. Her spectacles, precariously perched on the end of her nose, glinted in the waning sunlight. Harold was absurdly pleased to note she was wearing them. After their conversation last month, when he'd drawn her close and expressed his affection for Marian and her heightened loveliness when she wore her silver-rimmed spectacles, he'd noticed her using them more often. The fact that she'd heeded his words delighted him, and the sight of the frames sliding down her nose sent familiar warmth flooding through his body. Harold couldn't put it to words, but there was just _something_ about those little glasses that made his heart flip flop whenever he saw Marian wearing them. Marian was always lovely, but when she donned the silver frames, she was irresistible.

Harold was seized with the sudden desire to kiss the librarian, but remembering where he was, the music professor hesitated. This was her mother's parlor and Winthrop was only a short distance away upstairs. Torn between desire and propriety, Harold debated with himself before finally settling on restraint; however, he couldn't resist touching her. Raising his thumb, he lightly caressed her cheek before slowly moving it lower to trace along her jaw line. Marian stirred, but didn't wake.

Harold grinned. Apparently, his slumbering librarian was not a slight sleeper.

He chuckled softly to himself, instantly imagining all the delightful possibilities this could entail, and he decided to discard his earlier hesitation. After all, it would probably be quite some time before he had another opportunity such as this, and Harold Hill was never one to waste a good opportunity. He leaned closer and brought his lips to Marian's ear to softly whisper her name. She still didn't stir. Harold glanced at the stairs one more time and listened for any sound that might indicate they were no longer alone. But the house remained quiet, and satisfied that Winthrop still remained occupied, the music professor lowered his head and gently covered Marian's lips with his own.

Marian instantly stirred to his kiss and responded in kind, her lips languidly moving with his before parting on a soft moan. Harold felt a warm thrill rush through him at such a sensual and honest response. Without thought, he licked at her luscious lips, seeking permission to deepen their kiss. Marian complied and a moment later, he was thoroughly kissing her, heedless of the open window behind him or the fact that Winthrop was only a flight of stairs away. The sensation of Marian's warm mouth caressing his was intoxicating, and Harold knew he could have gone on kissing her for ages; however, the loud thud of a door slamming forced him to pull away regretfully. As he did so, he watched as Marian's eyes opened and slowly focused on him.

"Harold?" she murmured. She glanced around the parlor, seemingly confused as to where they were. As recognition settled in, a furious blush stained her fair skin, but Harold merely smiled and laid his palm against her cheek.

"Oh my dear little librarian," he murmured, his forehead resting against hers. He could feel the cool metal of her spectacles against his skin. "I think you intentionally set out to seduce me this afternoon."

Normally, Marian would have issued a rapid retort, but sleep had softened her razor-sharp tongue, and her eyes simply widened at his brazen comment. Finding her slumber-addled demeanor just as captivating as her ready wit, Harold chuckled softly and leaned back, depositing a tender kiss on the tip of her nose.

"Your spectacles," he explained. "I know I've told you how delightfully charming you are when you wear them, and it's true. You look delicious."

Marian lowered her head. "Harold …"

The music professor placed two fingers under her chin and lifted her eyes back to his. "I would never lie to you, Marian. Especially about that. You know that, don't you?"

Marian nodded.

"Good," he smiled. Rising, he offered her his hand. "Now then, how about joining your brother and me for a trip to the Candy Kitchen? Winthrop has been angling for a sundae all afternoon. I'm telling you Marian, that boy has a future in sales. He can be quite persuasive when he wants!"

"I can't imagine where he might have acquired that particular trait," Marian replied in a dry tone, the last remnants of sleep having finally faded.

The pointed look she leveled at Harold was not lost on him, but he merely grinned and shrugged. "Who knows where youngsters get their ideas these days!"

Marian shook her head in good-natured exasperation and took his offered hand. "Indeed."

"So what say you, Madam Librarian? I see a strawberry phosphate in your future and perhaps some butterscotch candies."

"Honestly, Harold," Marian scolded with a laugh as she retreated to the kitchen. "I don't need all that sugar."

"Well of course not," Harold agreed as he followed her through the door. "No one needs sugar, my dear, but it's a beautiful day outside. We'll take Winthrop and let him enjoy his sundae – he's been working awfully hard on our latest piece, and he deserves a reward of sorts. Besides," he continued, edging in closer and slipping an arm around her waist as she turned toward him, "it'll give me a chance to have the loveliest woman in town on my arm."

A pleased smile spread across the librarian's face, but as always, she had a quick retort for his blatant flattery. "Always the charmer, Professor Hill."

Harold drew her closer to him and leaned in to place a gentle kiss behind her ear. When he pulled away, his gaze was tender. "I mean every word," he sincerely informed her.

"Let me put the fudge pan in to soak, and I'll get my coat," she agreed, quiet delight coloring her tone.

Marian turned away and began to fill the sink with water from a nearby pitcher, but Harold, reluctant to relinquish her from his hold, came up on her from behind and wrapped her in his embrace once more. Although the librarian should've scolded him for taking such liberties – and in her mother's house, no less – Harold knew from the small smile that lifted the corners of Marian's mouth that there would be no such admonishment. Always willing to take advantage of any opportunity given to him, he lowered his lips to his beloved's neck and traced gentle kisses up along the smooth skin there as she placed the tin pan in the soapy water. The customary chignon Marian usually wore during the day allowed him ample selection, and he was suddenly quite grateful for the librarian's sensible hairstyle. Harold reflected he could easily get used to spending his afternoons in such a manner and was just about to voice his realization when Marian's head turned toward the plate of fudge.

"Now that's odd," she murmured to herself. "I know I made a dozen pieces… " An amused sigh escaped her lips, and she turned in Harold's embrace, giving him a piercing stare. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about the missing pieces, would you, _Mister_ Hill?"

Harold returned her knowing gaze with an innocent look and shook his head in mock confusion. "Why Miss Marian, I wasn't even aware you had made fudge." Mirth twinkled in his eyes, but he managed to contain the smile that lurked about his mouth.

Marian's eyes narrowed in skepticism. "Somehow, I find that rather hard to believe."

Harold remained silent. He was enjoying their little game of give and take, but when Marian placed her hands on his lapels and drew him closer with an appraising gleam in her eyes, his curiosity got the better of him.

"Marian, what are you –" Harold started to ask, but he never got the chance to finish, because next thing he knew, Marian's lips covered his and he was tasting the sweet peppermint flavor that always accompanied her kisses. His mind momentarily backfired when he felt her mouth open beneath his. Not only was his darling librarian kissing him, she was doing a first rate job of it!

But true to form, the music professor quickly recovered and slid his arms around Marian's waist and deepened their embrace. He heard the fudge pan rattle in the sink when her hips brushed against the counter, but he ignored it and continued to caress her mouth with his.

When they pulled apart, Harold felt a bit dazed, but Marian merely smiled triumphantly at him. "Ha! You did have a piece of fudge. I knew it!"

His librarian was craftier than he'd given her credit for, Harold realized. Smiling sheepishly, he nodded. "Guilty as charged," he confessed. He grew quiet and then narrowed his eyes, giving Marian a considering stare. "I'd never have guessed you to be so sly, though, Madam Librarian! Using your womanly wiles to ferret out the truth and not because you wanted to bestow affection on the man you love." He gazed at her in mock disappointment and bowed his head.

Marian blanched slightly. "Harold, I would never … that is to say … I'm shocked that you think I would ever employ affection merely to deduce-" she stammered.

A gleeful chuckle escaped Harold's lips and he held up a hand, effectively halting her protests. "Now now, darling. I was merely teasing you."

Relief flooded Marian's eyes and she released a small sigh. "I should say! I would never be as nefarious as that!"

"But," Harold continued with an impish smile, "If I had to get caught in a lie, I can't think of a more pleasant way to do so."

A crimson blush spread across Marian's porcelain complexion, and she reached out to playfully swat at her teasing beau, but Harold was faster and easily caught her hand in his; however, his merriment quickly vanished when he witnessed the librarian's eyes darken with longing as their fingers intertwined. Tugging Marian closer, Harold's lips descended upon hers and he slid his tongue past her lips to resume his earlier explorations. A delicious shiver coursed through him at her enthusiastic response, and the music professor briefly considered rethinking his timetable for proposing. But the thought departed as quickly as it came when the sounds of eager footsteps pounding down the stairs floated in to the kitchen. The canoodling couple moved apart, albeit regretfully, and stared at one another as Winthrop's young voice questioningly called out, first Harold's name and then his sister's.

"We'll be there in a minute, Winthrop," Marian responded in a resigned voice that indicated familiarity with this practice. Turning to Harold, she gave him an apologetic look and smoothed back a loose hair that had fallen from her chignon. "He certainly can be quick when he wants to be," she sighed. "Although, that's probably for the best."

"I beg to differ, Madam Librarian," Harold replied, an amorous gleam still evident in his eyes. "But we probably should be going. Winthrop might burst with excitement if we don't get him a sundae soon!" Harold barely refrained from pointing out that were they continue their previous activity, he, too, might burst. Somehow, he had a feeling that particular comment might earn him a well-deserved smack, and it wouldn't be one of a teasing nature!

"However," Harold continued, drawing Marian back to him, "that doesn't mean I'm going to let you leave this kitchen without one more kiss." He lowered his head and captured her lips for a sweet embrace that asked nothing in return. When his lips finally fell from hers, he stepped back and casually snatched another piece of fudge.

Marian suppressed a smile and arched an eyebrow.

"One for the road," Harold blithely explained before popping it in his mouth. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he escorted the giggling librarian into the parlor where Winthrop eagerly waited for them.

"Gee Professor, what took you so long?" he asked in utter innocence.

Marian blushed and reached for her coat. But Harold, smiling broadly, merely winked at her and turned to Winthrop.

"I had to satisfy a craving, son."


End file.
